


Sotto Voce

by Gumnut



Series: Tales of Sotto Voce [1]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15803748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore. Spoilers for S2.





	1. Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Whispers: chapter one of three of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 25-26 Aug 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore.  
> Word count: 4051  
> Spoilers & warnings: None  
> Author's note: this one took a long time to jell in my head and was particularly difficult to write. It wouldn’t behave. I’m hoping now that it is well and truly started that it will flow better. And, I’m sorry, but this definitely ends in a cliffhanger, so be warned.  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Sometimes the rescue itself wasn’t the hardest part. In fact, that was often the easiest. Focussed, pumped full of adrenalin, it happened, he didn’t think he just did. There was a goal and he tunnel-visioned until he achieved it.

Sometimes it was afterwards, when all that adrenalin was spent, when the aches and pains demanded attention, when his body just wanted sleep, that were the worst. Because no matter the rescue, there was always cleanup, whether it was successful or not.

Today was a mixture of both. They’d saved the children, but lost the parents and it just tore at him. It tore at all of them.

The sound of rushing water was the continual reminder. He wanted nothing more than to escape this place and the life taking river beside them. Thunderbird Two stood with him, silent in the rain, cranked up on her struts, the pod bay door open awaiting the pods’ return.

One pod wouldn’t be returning. Not in one piece. Thunderbird One was chasing it down the swollen river in the hope of recovery. Heavy flotsam had been too much for the argument between TB2’s grapple and the current. They had nearly lost Gordon as well, his brother only just managing to grab the grapple himself, before the pod was swept away.

Rain dripped into Virgil’s hair.

Gordon was bundled up in the medical bay. Bruises, a possible concussion, a little battered, but thankfully safe. The children had been handed over to the local emergency services.

Scott was swearing over the comms as he tried to fish the pod out of the river.

The rain continued, uncaring.

And people kept on staring.

Despite the rain, despite the horror of what had happened, International Rescue still had spectators staring at him and his Thunderbird. They had been cordoned off by local police, but there were eyes and muttering as he remoted the remaining pod into the bay. The one use the swollen river had was to protect him from eyes on one side and he took advantage of it as much as possible.

Rain ran down his neck.

Hiding from the crowd he took a moment and lent back against the side of the pod, his ‘bird’s engine and wing protecting him momentarily from the godawful rain. He wished Scott would snag that pod so they could leave.

Another expletive rolled down the comline.

“Mr Tracy?”

He startled. He must be tired. A young woman stood metres away, her dark hair wet, her clothes equally so. He straightened, professional façade falling immediately into place. “This is a restricted area, ma’am. I will have to ask you to leave.” He eyed the river. “It is not safe.”

She swallowed, her eyes also darting to the river. “I know, sir, I just had to speak to you.”

Virgil frowned and she held up her hands placatingly.

“I know, I know. Just one moment. Please?”

He shook his head, taking a step towards her. “This area is not safe, please return to the barricades.” He blinked as he stepped out into the rain again.

“Please, Virgil. This will only take a moment.”

The use of his name set him on edge. “Who are you?”

She shrunk in on herself a little. “J-just a fan.”

She looked harmless, but Virgil knew looks often counted for very little. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you will need to return to the barricades.”

“I-I just wanted to thank you.” She shuffled closer to him, her gaze somewhat bedazzled.

“What?”

“For everything you do.” And suddenly her hand was on his arm.

He flinched and took a hurried step backwards, but she followed, closer, and then he was being kissed.

A gasp on soft lips and he was stumbling further back, attempting to get out of reach, but his boots slipped in the mud and her grip was stronger than expected.

A brush of a tongue, then she was leaning in even closer, a whisper in his ear. “A shame really, you are quite beautiful.”

Shocked and confused, he didn’t see the knife.

-o-o-o-

Scott was moments away from declaring the pod unsalvageable when he finally got a good grip on it and yanked it from the floodwaters.

About time!

He hauled in the grapple line close to TB1 to reduce drag in this awful weather. There wasn’t any wind, thankfully, but the rain made up for it. He would be quite happy to return to sun-drenched Tracy Island as soon as possible.

“Scott!” Virgil’s voice was sharp over the comline. His name conveying trouble.

“Virgil? What’s wrong?”

There was a gasp and a groan. “S-she stabbed me.”

What the-

It took only seconds for Thunderbird One to return to the danger zone. Thunderbird Two stood silent in the rain as he hurriedly let the pod down nearby before lowering his ’bird in a cloud of muddy steam. He was out and running. “Thunderbird Five, where is he?”

“Far side of Thunderbird Two.”

His feet splashed in the mud as he ran through the rain, darting around the green behemoth, the lights of the still open pod warm and beckoning against the grey.

In the shadow between the river and his ‘bird, his brother was in the slush, rolling, attempting to get up.

“Virgil!” Scott skidded in the mud as he reached his brother’s side.

Virgil’s left hand was at his collar bone, his eyes squeezed shut, his right struggling for purchase. “Where is she?”

Scott’s eyes widened as red leaked into the rain between Virgil’s fingers on his neck. “You’re bleeding!”

“I know! She- argh.” Virgil made it to his knees, but hunched over in pain, his free hand stopping his fall into the mud. “Where is she?”

A glance around. “There’s no one here, Virgil.”

His brother let his head drop a moment. “So stupid.” A single drop of blood landed in the slush and was washed away.

“Let’s get you inside.” Placing his hands under Virgil’s armpits, he helped his brother to his feet. He didn’t miss the groan or the slump of his weight as he turned him around to face him, Virgil’s forehead resting momentarily on his shoulder before the man steeled himself and drew up to his full height.

Anger flashed in his eyes.

Scott hovered as they both strode around into the full view from the barricades, Virgil lowering the hatch enough to climb on, they quickly disappeared from view once again.

The peace and quiet inside the cockpit were a blessing, but Scott didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around his sodden brother and corral him towards the medical bay. “What the hell happened?”

“A fan. Said she wanted to thank me.” A stifled grunt of pain. “Kissed me. Stabbed me.” Another grunt as they entered through the door. Whispered. “So stupid.”

Gordon stirred as they entered, his eyes blinking at them in concern. “What happened?”

“Virgil’s been stabbed.” He leant his brother up against the nearest cabinet, one hand holding him there, the other fumbling through medical supplies. Blood began to drip on the floor.

Gordon struggled to get off the bed.

“Stay there, Gordon.” Virgil’s voice was raspy. “I’m good.” He let his head drop back against the cupboard with a groan and closed his eyes. He winced as Scott peeled away his hand and unzipped the collar of his uniform. A pair of scissors took care of his undershirt and finally exposed the wound – an inch long cut just inside his brother’s right collar bone. There was a considerable amount of blood, but it was bleeding sluggishly, so no artery had been hit. A damn miracle considering how close it was to his neck. He cleaned it quickly, removing as much of the muck as he could before padding it and wrapping a bandage awkwardly around his brother’s torso in an attempt to keep some pressure on it.

He stripped off Virgil’s gloves, rinsed his hands and placed his left over the injury. “Keep pressure on it.”

“Aye, aye.” Virgil didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He knew his brother knew the drill.

Scott eyed his two brothers. “Gordon, how are you feeling?”

“I’m good, Scott. Want me to co-pilot?”

“Can you stand?”

Gordon did so, ignoring the slight stumble. There was no way these two were flying. Scott sighed. “Virgil, you’ve got the bed. Gordon, up front with me.”

“No.” Virgil still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Virgil, I want you immobile. John can take Thunderbird One, I’ve got Two. You’re in bed. Now.”

“Other pod.”

Damn, the mangled pod was still beside his ‘bird. “I’ll take care of it. You, bed, now.”

Finally, Virgil opened his eyes, his head dropping slowly with another wince, his gaze moving to pin his brother. “I’m fine, Scott. I would rather sit in the cockpit.” When Scott didn’t immediately respond, Virgil sighed and walked out of the medical bay, still holding his collarbone.

Scott looked at Gordon who shrugged and followed his brother out of the room.

With his own sigh and muttered expletive, Scott followed them.

-o-o-o-

Taking a minute or two, Scott used one pod to grab the other pod and stuff it in the module before closing the bay door, lowering TB2 and launching both ‘birds into the grey and godforsaken rain. Once they were airborne, John nabbed TB1 and Scott headed for their local military hospital, determined to get both brothers checked over. Gordon seemed mostly fine, but Virgil had a hole in him that could be deep. His brother sat behind him and Scott had to force himself not to check on him every five seconds. By the time they made it to the hospital helipad, Virgil was slumping in his seat, eyes closed and pained frown on his face. He had refused pain medication, wanting to wait for the hospital.

It hurt just to look at him.

Gordon, on the other hand, kept yawning and, in turn, setting Scott off.

Fortunately, their stay at the hospital was short. Gordon tested out fine and was simply recommended rest. Virgil’s wound turned out to be about an inch deep. It had nicked a vein, but some local anaesthetic, stitches, antibiotics and a painkiller that sent Virgil a little loopy and they were out of there.

Virgil hummed an old tune about singing in the rain all the way home.

-o-o-o-

“No!”

He shouted himself awake, tangled his feet in the bedclothes and fell out of bed.

The floor was hard and cold.

“Augh.” Virgil groaned and rolled over onto his back, his hand automatically going to his collarbone. “Owww.” He was shirtless, his usual pyjama top irritated his injury despite the dressing, so he had taken to not wearing it. It made the floor that so much colder.

This was the second morning he had woken yelling. Though it was the first he had actually fallen out of bed. Why he was yelling himself awake, he had no idea. His heart was thudding, so probably a bad dream, possibly with knife-wielding psycho fans in it, but honestly, he couldn’t remember.

And he didn’t really care anyway. This wasn’t the first time a rescue had screwed with his sleep and it wouldn’t be the last. Came with the territory. He’d get over it eventually, he always did.

But damn the floor was cold.

Pulling himself upright, his eyes sought the clock. Seven am. Great, there went his sleep in. He leant back against the side of the bed and let the tension drop from his body. First thing in the morning and he was tired. His collarbone and neck ached, in turn giving him an ongoing headache. Fabulous.

A knock on his door and before he could answer, Scott dipped his head in. He obviously had something to say, but was interrupted by finding his brother sitting on the floor. A frown. “You okay?”

Virgil sighed. “I’m fine.” Scott had been hovering for the past week, as expected after any injury, and Virgil appreciated it, but it was starting to get tiresome.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“Because it is comfortable.”

Another frown. “Did you fall out of bed?”

“No, I swam out of it.”

The non-sequitur made his brother blink before the concerned frown turned into an exasperated glare. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!”

“Okay!”

There was silence for a moment, then Virgil found himself smirking, despite everything. His brother also appeared to be trying to keep a straight face. “Doofus.”

“Muttonhead.”

“Cheeseball.”

“Spacecase.”

“Pancake.”

“Pancake?”

“Well, you are flat on your butt, aren’t you?” Scott finally entered the room and offered him a hand up. Virgil mocked glared up at him as he took his hand and levered himself off the floor. He didn’t miss the pair of blue eyes assessing him as he did so.

“C’mon, Scott, I’m fine.” It wasn’t a whine. Really.

“You ready for the testing schedule today?”

Virgil blinked. That was today? “Sure.”

The word was punctuated by his bedside alarm going off. Yes, he had set that for this exact reason – he had to get up early today for equipment testing. He slapped the alarm a little too hard and it fell off his bedside table.

Scott arched an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. “You sure you don’t want Gordon to pilot?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. How many more times was he going to ask that. “No! My design, my testing phase. Now will you get out of here so I can get dressed?”

A shrug. “Sure. See you at breakfast.” His brother ambled back to the door, slipping through before ducking his head back in. “That is, if you’re feeling okay.”

The flying pillow missed him by millimetres.

-o-o-o-

They hadn’t managed to locate Virgil’s assailant. Despite having the feed from TB2’s external cam, it gave little information other than a woman had kissed then attacked Virgil. John had captured what he could from the footage and was running facial recognition software, but he wasn’t optimistic.

Despite Virgil’s embarrassment, no one had attempted to make light of the kissing part of the incident. If anything, Gordon, the most likely source of heckling, had been more offended by the woman than Virgil. His shorter brother had produced a number of expletives, none of which were commented on by their Grandmother despite the fact she was standing right next to him at the time.

Scott had pulled Virgil aside later and firmly counselled him to not let strange anybody so close to him ever again. He was concerned about Virgil’s lack of self defence in the situation. Virgil hadn’t felt he had needed any self defence at the time. Scott pointed out the hole in his neck as proof that he did. The glare Virgil had thrown back at him was set to bore a hole in return.

But he knew his older brother was right. He should have done something. He hated to be the cause of that worried crinkle in Scott’s brow.

It could have ended up so much worse.

But today was not the day for thinking about such things – he had done enough such thinking over the last week. Headache be damned, today was the day he got to test out a new pod design. One designed specifically to skim across water.

The core pod designs were a mixture of both Brains and Virgil with a dash alcohol one wintery night before they had moved to the island. They had been trying to think of a way to transport the necessary equipment to a rescue site when they didn’t necessarily know what they would be needing. It had been an inspiring night; the ideas had just flowed. One engineer would suggest something, then the other would grab the idea and add to it, which in turn would inspire the first again and back and forth. Virgil and Brains worked well together. Brains was indeed the brains and master engineer behind the Thunderbirds, but Virgil was the spine. He had grown into the position, connecting all the pieces together, human and machine, and kept them going.

And they both made great sounding boards for each other.

So, both of them were in the module pod when it was dropped onto the calm waters of the lagoon in Tracy Bay. Alan had Thunderbird Two in hand, hovering above with Scott in the co-pilot’s seat. Thunderbird Four surfaced nearby, Gordon clearly in the cockpit and, in the distance on Tracy Island, Grandma could be seen standing beside the pool, a pair of binoculars in hand.

Virgil was dressed in an IR wetsuit, helmet included, and Brains had his jumpsuit on. Virgil was to pilot and Brains to monitor performance.

The younger engineer started the assembly sequence and the machinery buzzed to life. He loved the rhythm of pod assembly. There was just something harmonious about how all the pieces came together as a whole. There should be some music to it, something upbeat. He threw a few notes together in his head and made a mental note to work them out later on the piano.

Assembly went as smoothly as it ever had and within minutes a little hydrofoil pod sat in the bay.

This was one of the reasons why Virgil felt that he should do the testing and not Gordon, despite the water factor. The word ‘hydrofoil’ was permanently scarred on the family’s psyche. Virgil had wanted to call it something else, but Gordon had shouted him down. It was a hydrofoil, damn well call it one.

It was a neat little craft and it was designed to be fast for use in shipwreck and any other time there was need to move fast across the water. She was designed to reach up to 150 kph or around 80 knots, something of a speed record for her vehicle class. Then again, her designers usually had speed somewhere at the top of their list of requirements for any design. The Guinness World Records mob would never hear about it…they hadn’t heard of any of the others either, so that was nothing new.

“V-visual assessment.” Brains took one side of the pod, and Virgil the other. Scanner in one hand, with bare fingertips of the other, they each worked across their side of the pod checking connections and interfaces. Once their side was done, they swapped and double checked the other sides.

“Secure.”

“S-secure.”

A grin at each other and Virgil held up his hand. They high fived, Virgil compensating for the inevitable miss of his co-ordination challenged friend.

“Instrument check.”

Virgil hauled himself into the cockpit, scanner still in hand and ran through all the pre-operation checks.

“Fully operational.”

“G-go for launch?”

“Go for launch.”

John’s hologram appeared suddenly in front of him. “Status, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked. He had been about to notify his brother. “We are go for launch.”

His brother looked closely at him. “Are you ready?”

“For Christ’s sake, John, I’m fine!” He hit the connection to cut his brother off. The hologram frowned at him before flickering and disappearing.

“V-virgil?”

He looked down at his fellow engineer. “We are go for launch.” Brains was frowning at him, but he muttered FAB in acknowledgement.

Virgil activated the cockpit seal and the overhead slid into place with a hiss. Flipping switches, he powered up the engines and deployed the ramp that would ease her into the water. The little craft edged forward, down the ramp and slid into the rippled surface of the lagoon. The body of the pod core floated gently.

“Good luck, Virgil.” Scott’s soft voice in his ear.

Virgil smiled and hit the accelerator.

-o-o-o-

Gordon had to admit to himself that he had mixed emotions regarding this latest addition to their arsenal of equipment. He definitely could see the value of having the fast little water craft, but the word hydrofoil…he had no doubt that he would end up piloting her at some point. Hell, he wanted to pilot her. She was sharp and he loved speed. She had the International Rescue branding all down her side which basically was a synonym for safety. And she would never travel at the ridiculous speeds WASP had attempted.

But hydrofoil…

He sat in his beloved Thunderbird Four and watched as Virgil accelerated slowly out of the lagoon, the little pod sliding smoothly through the water. He activated his own engines and eased in gently to follow at a distance. Overhead Thunderbird Two moved out beyond Mateo Island, also keeping her distance, but ever hovering above her favourite pilot.

Gordon slipped out between the two headlands of the lagoon and the open ocean began to toss his little craft around. In the distance he saw Virgil’s pod lift herself above the chop on her foils as she gained enough speed to fly over the water.

Knowing he could only keep up if he slipped under, he dove his submarine below the waves and pursued his brother across the ocean.

-o-o-o-

This was definitely fun. Virgil had a grin on his face. He honestly wasn’t a water baby like his brother, but he did appreciate speed, and speed on water was completely different to speed in the air.

The waves flew beneath him.

“Progress r-report.”

Brain’s voice brought him a little closer to Earth and he rattled off the required speed readings and response times. “She’s as smooth as we expected, Brains. This is great.”

“F-forty knots and there appears to b-be little strain on the engines.”

“She’s not even trying.”

“Man-noeuvre testing.”

“FAB.” And if there was glee in his voice, he wasn’t going to deny it.

He did a series of safe turns, each time checking the built-in scanning units which accurately reported the presence of both Thunderbirds Two and Four in his vicinity. That and a pod of dolphins that had him changing his course the moment he detected them.

John’s hologram suddenly appeared in front of him. “Why are you making such a vast detour?”

“Dolphins off the port bow, bro.” He grinned at his brother.

“I can see that you are enjoying yourself.”

“I am.” Virgil was still grinning.

“Everything working well?”

“She is responding like a dream.”

John raised an eyebrow at him, a slight smile on his lips. “So, you are feeling good?”

Huh? “Yes, of course.” He frowned. “I told you before, I feel fine.”

“Good.” And his brother’s hologram winked out.

The frown stayed on his face after his brother disappeared and for a moment, he cursed the sudden interruption to his amusement. But another frown had him shaking it off. This was one of the best parts of engineering design, playing with the final product.

And he was going to have fun.

He swerved, enjoying the smooth motion of the craft at his fingertips. Then straightening her out, he accelerated again.

-o-o-o-

Scott wasn’t a water baby like Gordon either, but he definitely was a fan of speed and as he watched his brother fly across the ocean below, a little spike of envy couldn’t help but stab him at the sight. This was one fast little craft and he wouldn’t mind a turn at her helm sometime in the future.

He was using Thunderbird Two’s scanner arrays to follow and monitor the hydrofoil and forward any extra information on her diagnostics to Brains back in the module. So far everything had performed exactly as her specs said they should.

His little brother was a damn good designer.

“Woohoo!”

Scott laughed at the jubilant yell across the comline. “Oh, he’s having a great time.”

Alan grinned at him. “It certainly looks like fun.”

She was at sixty knots and still climbing, her foils dancing across the wave crests. “Virg, you want to halt her at seventy or go for the full eighty?”

“Would love to push her to eighty, but no, I’ll keep her to sixty-five. Need to do a stress test before realising her full potential.”

And once he hit sixty-five, he set her at cruise and she maintained her flight.

Until something went wrong, and for the second time in his life, Scott had to watch in horror as a hydrofoil containing a brother flipped end over end over end over end until the ocean swallowed it whole.

-o-o-o-

End Part One.


	2. First Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: First Words: chapter two of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 27-28 Aug 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore.  
> Word count: 2410  
> Spoilers & warnings: None  
> Author’s note: A quick note on my Thunderbirds universe - it was pure Thunderbirds Are Go, but having read so much TOS fic, elements have crept into my head and warped it somewhat. In particular the histories of the characters have taken on what would normally be considered TOS backstory. I still live in TAG land, but you will find elements of TOS floating around. So no Jeff, occasional Kayo, but hydrofoil crashes, Olympic medals and racing trophies tend to be mentioned. Probably to make up for the lack of backstory for the characters in TAG. 
> 
> This chapter is shorter than expected, but demanded to end here. This of course means there is likely to be four chapters plus epilogue rather than the planned three, but that will just teach me to never and try to predict things like this :D Thank you all for your screams of cliffhanger agony and yells of encouragement, you are all wonderful and I couldn’t write without you ::hugs:: I hope you enjoy this chapter ::cackles evilly::  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

“NO!”

At 120 kilometres per hour, Virgil’s little hydrofoil tripped on its own foils and spun in the air, coming down hard, before bouncing off the water surface to spin again, bounce again and again until its angle of entry penetrated the water surface and drove her under.

There was a split second of pure frozen horror.

Then the comms erupted and Gordon moved.

His scanners tracked the pod as it dove, speed leeching into the water the deeper it got. He knew there was enough air in the craft for it to resurface by itself, but that calculation neglected to take in any possible damage to the hull.

It would only take a crack.

He flung TB4 into a steep dive, deploying her arms on approach and grabbing the wounded pod. Shifting his turbines into reverse, he slowed her plummet and began pulling her towards the surface.

His lights shone on the cabin.

Virgil was slumped in his restraints.

“Virgil?”

“Gordon, what’s the pod’s status?” Scott’s voice was strong as ever, but it was trembling just that little bit. Shock, no doubt.

“Recovering now. Pilot appears unconscious.”

“I have no response from Virgil.”

“Neither do I.” His heart was thudding in his chest.

It took years to get to the surface. Likely a matter of seconds, but staring at his injured brother while separated by marine acrylic and water and not able to do anything but look, stretched time beyond belief. But eventually they surfaced, the sun sparking off wet metal and plastic, Thunderbird Two’s engines shaking the air some distance off starboard.

Securing TB4, Gordon flipped out, under, and swam over to the crippled hydrofoil. He climbed up the side of the craft, his gloved hands ghosting over dented metal. Her foils were bent at odd angles, but the core pod…the core pod was secure. Thank god for good and safe design. Her seals had held.

He banged on the clear acrylic. Virgil didn’t react.

Please.

He reached around the back edge of the hatch, his fingers searching for the emergency release. The ocean made the world go up and down.

Finally, his fingers caught the latch and with a hiss of broken seal, he hauled up the hatch. The sea breeze stirred Virgil’s hair.

Gordon yanked off a glove and holding his breath reached for Virgil’s pulse.

His brother’s heart beat against his fingertips.

Oh, thank god.

“H-he’s alive.”

There was an incoherent sound of relief at the other end of the comline.

“We’re going to need a spinal board down here.”

“Copy that.”

It didn’t surprise Gordon to see Scott pin drop from Thunderbird Two several moments later. He’d stripped off most of his uniform, leaving only his undershirt and shorts on. He had also donned a harness to which he had attached one of TB2’s first aid kits. He paddled over on the spinal board and hurriedly clambered up the side of the mangled hydrofoil, his eyes seeking his injured brother.

Gordon had done a visual assessment of Virgil. It appeared that the pod’s safety harness had done its job. There were no obvious major injuries. There would be bruises, no doubt, but his brother appeared to be in one piece.

Scott’s fingers brushed against Virgil’s hair.

“Let’s get him out of there.”

It took some awkward manoeuvring and Virgil was damn heavy, but finally with his spine and neck immobilised as much as possible, the two brothers manhandled him into a basket stretcher lowered from TB2.

Virgil did not stir at all.

Taking one last second to grip Gordon’s shoulder in thanks, Scott rode Virgil’s stretcher up into the confines of Thunderbird Two, and the aquanaut was left staring at the mangled and empty hydrofoil.

As TB2 tore off towards the mainland, Gordon swore and sunk his boot into the side of the crippled craft.

-o-o-o-

It was the pain that finally woke him.

Everything ached, even his toenails hurt, but it was his head, surely three times its natural size as it throbbed and throbbed to the beat of his heart, that forced him to consciousness.

“So, you are finally awake.”

He cranked open an eyelid and the room’s lighting stabbed him in the eye. Augh. He may have made to make the sound, but nothing left his lips. The gasp was lost enroute. He blinked, forcing his eyes to clear and regretted it immediately.

Oh god.

“Now come on, hurry up.”

A hologram came into focus. John?

“Yes, it is me. Is everything functional?”

Huh?

Green eyes peered at him. “Not all there yet? Hmm, may have to give it some more time.” The hologram blurred and disappeared.

Virgil turned his head looking for his brother. “J-John?”

“Virgil!”

He flinched at the closeness of Scott’s voice. That and the sharp instrument that pierced him through one ear and out the other. “Ohwww.”

A hand touched his hair and he cringed away. “Don’t-“

Quieter. “Virgil?”

He brought his hands to his temples. “Oh god, my head.” His eyes screwed shut, he attempted to curl up on the bed, but that set off all the other complaints in his body. He groaned.

He heard his brother’s voice again, footsteps pounded into his brain. His hand tugged and he let out a sob as something cold crawled up his arm.

Then the pain began to ebb away.

He melted slowly into the bed, his muscles letting go, relaxing in relief. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.

“Better?” Scott’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Better.” Virgil opened his eyes and looked blearily up at his brother. “Thank you.”

“Can you tell me your name?” The voice was female and Scott stepped back to let the doctor closer to her patient.”

My name? “Virgil.” A slow relaxed blink. “Virgil Grissom Tracy.” Who are you?

“Do you know your birthdate?”

Another slow blink. “August 15th.”

“Do you remember what year?”

“Yesterday.”

A pause. “Okay, Virgil. Do you remember what happened to you?”

What happened? “I was flying.” He frowned. “Now I’m here.” He looked up at his brother. “Where am I?” The walls were unfamiliar. Another frown. “A hydrofoil. Gordon! Where’s Gordon?!” He tried to sit up, but Scott held him down.

“Gordon is fine. You were piloting the hydrofoil.”

Virgil stared up at him. “Me?” His eyes darted to his legs and he bent them at the knees, wriggling his toes. Oh, thank god they ached so much. He let them drop and sighed back into the bed. “I’m okay.” A hitched breath. “I’m okay.”

Scott’s lips were thin and his frown worried.

Virgil tentatively reached out. “Are you okay?”

A breath exploded from his brother and he ran a hand through his hair. “Am I okay?” A choked sound was the only answer.

The doctor touched Scott’s arm. His brother visibly flinched and moved away.

Definitely not okay.

Virgil fumbled for his brother’s hand and squeezed. Blue eyes latched onto his and Scott’s shoulders dropped just a notch.

“I’m okay, Scott.” His brother’s eyes glistened in the fluorescent lighting. “I’m okay.”

-o-o-o-

And he was okay. It was a flippin’ miracle, but he was okay. When Gordon arrived and smothered him in the biggest hug he had ever received from his second youngest brother, he was able to hug him back almost as tightly.

“I can not believe you. I just…my god, Virgil.”

“I’m sorry.” And Gordon was hugging him again. “I’m okay.”

Gordon stepped back and Virgil found himself now pinned by a pair of russet brown eyes that glistened almost as much as Scott’s had earlier. Hell, he had made his whole family cry. Damn, Grandma was probably going to kill him when he saw her.

“You’re one lucky bastard.” And Gordon wiped his face on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Gordon.”

“Stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“What happened?”

Gordon straightened up, swallowed and composed himself. “We don’t know yet. Brains is going over the wreckage and footage. He’ll let us know as soon as he comes up with something.” Gordon blinked and shook his head. “I swear…Virg, make it into something else. A-a catamaran or a hovercraft, maybe. Dump the hydrofoil idea, I think fate has made its point.”

“Okay.”

Gordon slumped onto the edge of the bed, his hand coming to rest on Virgil’s blanket covered knee. “You’re sure you’re okay?” It was like his brother couldn’t believe it.

Understandable considering the circumstances.

“I’m fine, Gordon. A few aches and pains, one hell of a headache and some bruises, but I’m good.” He reached out and grabbed his brother’s elbow. “Brain’s safety margins, remember. I’ll be out of the hospital by tomorrow.” He had made Scott promise.

-o-o-o-

And Scott stuck to his promise. The very next day he was signed out of the military hospital and escorted by his two brothers out to his big green ‘bird perched on the hospital helipad.

Scott grinned at his expression. “We thought you would prefer to ride home in style.”

He arched an eyebrow at his brother. Deadpan. “Really?” Style and TB2 weren’t two concepts he thought his brother would string together into one sentence, much less when speaking to Virgil.

Scott shrugged, but didn’t admit to anything, and Virgil wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As the hatch drew them up into the body of his ‘bird, he found he was already home. A tension he didn’t know he was carrying fell off his shoulders and he sagged just a little in relief.

Blue eyes darted in his direction, but he ignored them, drawn immediately to his pilot’s seat.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Scott’s hand landed on his shoulder halting him gently. “Gordon’s got this.”

And Gordon did, slipping past the both of them and starting pre-flight checks. His older brother’s arm reached around his shoulder and hugged him side on. “Sorry, Virg. You’re grounded for a while yet.”

“How long?”

“However long it takes.” And with that he prodded him into the auxiliary seat behind the pilot’s chair and took the co-pilot’s seat himself.

Virgil frowned sulkily, but the simple expression sent a sharp pain through the centre of his skull and he winced. Okay, perhaps Scott was right.

He lowered his harness and tried not to pout too hard.

-o-o-o-

Arriving home was another lesson in how much his family loved him. Yes, Grandma had tears in her eyes. Yes, Kayo threatened to punch his lights out if he ever did it again. Alan hugged him until he had to ask to breathe and even John had returned to Earth to celebrate his survival. The only person missing from his little welcome home celebration was Brains.

“You know what he is like when he gets angry.”

Virgil half-smirked. “Haven’t seen him for days?”

“Haven’t seen him for days.” Scott shrugged. “He’ll surface when he is ready.” Brains was well known for disappearing into science when angry. And since one of their creations had endangered a life, he was pretty sure Brains was royally pissed.

Virgil wasn’t too happy himself. Those designs had been perfect.

Well, apparently not. He sighed.

And realised that there were at least six pairs of eyes staring at him worriedly.

Oh, for the love of…this was going to wear thin very fast. He held up his hands. “I’m okay. I promise.” He pointed in the direction of the stairs to the bedrooms. “I’m just going to go put my feet up for a while.” He was tired, short flight or not. Scott opened his mouth. “I’m fine!” He stared his brother down and Virgil backed out of the room before he could be pounced on further.

-o-o-o-

He was woken up sometime later by John, his hologram hovering beside the bed.

“Wha- Oh, hi, John.” He ran a hand over his face. His head continued to throb, but he was getting used to it now. “What’s up?”

“Welcome back, Virgil.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks. Sorry for scaring you.”

John didn’t answer that and Virgil turned to look up at him. “You okay?”

“I am well.” His brother paused, his expression thoughtful. “I need your help.”

Huh? Virgil sat up, ignoring the swirling in his head. “What can I do for you?”

“Do you have a copy of the original designs for the hydrofoil?”

“Of course. They’re in the IR schematics database.”

“Could you send me a copy?”

“Sure.” Virgil paused a second. “Why don’t you have access?”

John shrugged. “Sunspot activity is interfering with orbital communications again. Do me a favour and send them to this link. That one at least I know is working.”

Virgil frowned, but pulled up the database, found the files and shunted them across as requested. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, my brother.” And John smiled at him before blinking out.

Virgil frowned. Weird.

A wave of dizziness hit him and he lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes. He ignored the headache as much as possible and tried to get back to sleep.

-o-o-o-

“What?!”

Brains flinched at his reaction. “I-I’m s-sorry, Scott. But that i-is the o-nly explanation.”

“No! Not possible.” His voice echoed around Brains’ lab.

“Scott-“ John’s expression was as pained as Scott felt.

“No, John! Why would he possibly want to do that? Really? This is Virgil!”

“It is the only explanation. There was no fault in the equipment and the recordings clearly show he deviated suddenly enough to cause the accident.”

“But not on purpose.”

His middle brother walked over and placed his hands on Scott’s shoulders. “I hate this as much as you do. We’ve been examining this for hours looking for another reason, but there isn’t one. Virgil crashed the hydrofoil on purpose.”

“But why?” Scott could hear the whine in his own voice.

John swallowed. “We don’t know. All we have is the cockpit recording.” His brother darted a glance at Brains and the engineer fiddled with the console. A hologram of Virgil appeared in the middle of the room, his dark-haired brother’s expression of calm concentration while piloting intimately familiar to Scott. “He reached 65 knots and kept it steady for about fifteen seconds and then…” Virgil’s expression shifted, a frown, his lips thinned to a grimace, and suddenly the pilot threw the control yoke sharply to port and the hydrofoil was airborne.

John’s hands fell from his shoulders, as Scott stood frozen, his mouth open in denial. A desperate whisper. “Why?”

-o-o-o-

End Part Two

 


	3. Attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Attempt: chapter three of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 28-30 Aug 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore.  
> Word count: 1800  
> Spoilers & warnings: Mentions of suicide. Spoilers for the end of Season 2  
> Author’s note: This is the shortest installment so far, but it called for it again. Feel free to join me on the giant cliff of hang again. Sorry ::hugs::  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Scott nursed his coffee, staring out into the morning sun. Down below Gordon was lapping the pool, but it was one of the loungers that kept Scott’s attention. Virgil was asleep sprawled on his back, shirtless. Scott didn’t know how long he had been there. He was there at five am when Scott went for his morning run and he was still there when he got back. Nothing seemed to have disturbed his snoring.

It was unusual, to say the least. Why he was out here, Scott didn’t have a clue. Usually Virgil didn’t see daylight until at least past nine unless there was a callout or his ‘Bird needed some extra attention. His brother was more of a late nighter than an early riser. And why the pool lounger?

The purple bruising across his shoulders and torso from the safety harness available for all to view.

Scott’s coffee burned on the way down.

Why?

It was the question still hammering the inside of his skull. Why would Virgil purposefully crash that hydrofoil? It didn’t make sense. There was no sign of…well…anything. The concept of Virgil seeking his own end…no, it wasn’t possible! He stared down at his brother. Was it? They say that those closest often don’t see it coming.

Scott had spent the entire night going over everything in his head. Virgil was under stress, yes, but no more than usual. They all knew what their jobs entailed, they all kept an eye on one another for indications of help needed. They talked, they discussed. Hell, everyone knew that if Virgil started pounding the piano keys or getting particularly violent with his paintbrush that he needed to be checked on. It was the same if certain pieces of gym equipment took too much of a beating, or if a tablet went flying across the room, or if Gordon couldn’t be dragged out of the pool. They looked after each other, they all knew each other’s indicators, there were five of them, enough for intervention if it was needed.

But this…why?

Part of him wanted to shake his brother awake and ask him. But there were no signs that Virgil even remembered the accident, much less causing it. John, Brains and himself had decided to watch and wait. They would tell Alan and Gordon if necessary, but for the moment they would keep an eye on their engineer brother.

Down on the lounger Virgil’s head shifted side to side and he mumbled.

Scott frowned.

“No!” And his brother was in motion, his arms reaching out as if to push something away, his legs scrambling as if to run, his body toppling off the lounger and onto the decking below.

“Virgil?” Gordon was leaping out of the pool and Scott was flying down the stairs. Scott skidded through the kitchen and around the pool, but Gordon beat him to it.

At any other time, Virgil falling off a lounger would have been hilarious, but after recent events, everyone was touchy around the second eldest. They had almost lost him and Virgil was no joking matter.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Just a bad dream.” And then Virgil’s glare hit Scott with a dare for him to say anything else.

Scott obliged and with a sense of déjà vu offered him a hand up. “Pancaking again, Virg?”

The glare sharpened, but he took the offered hand as a wet Gordon stepped back, expression slightly confused.

Virgil grunted as he righted himself. It was obvious his brother was stiff and sore, and he staggered slightly, Scott using his other hand to steady him. “Any reason for sleeping beside the pool?”

“I needed the air.” Virgil didn’t look at him. “I’m going to go have a shower.” He took a step towards the house.

“See you at breakfast.”

Virgil waved a negligent hand in his direction as he walked off into the house.

“Weird.”

Scott looked down at Gordon and let out a worried breath. “Yeah.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil felt so much better after a hot shower. Some of his muscles actually worked now. His head still ached, but that could be ignored, mostly.

He downed a glass of water in his suite and decided to forego breakfast. His stomach just didn’t feel like it. He tried to think back to why he had been out by the pool and why he had yelled himself awake again and came up blank on both scores. Of the two the fact he was beside the pool was the most unnerving. Last he remembered he had been in his own bed.

John’s hologram suddenly appeared in front of him and he jumped. “Hell, John, give a guy a little warning.”

John arched an eyebrow at him, but didn’t acknowledge his protest. “Virgil, we need you, Brains and Thunderbird Two. Report to the hangar bay.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate. “FAB.”

And he was out the door.

-o-o-o-

Brains was tired.

Since the discovery of Virgil’s sabotage of the hydrofoil test, he hadn’t been able to rest. Of the five brothers, Brains felt he knew Virgil best. They had a great deal in common and they worked together well.

He could see no reason why Virgil did what he did. It was so far out of character it defied possibility. It would be like dropping a hammer in a standard gravitational field and have it fall up instead of down. It was a nigh impossible result.

But it had happened nonetheless.

He was standing amongst the remains of the little hydrofoil at the back of Thunderbird Two’s hanger when he heard the hiss of Thunderbird Two’s pilot delivery gantry deploy far above him. A blink and Virgil came flying out, catching the bars at the end of the ride and flinging himself into his ship.

A moment later the module bay opened and Thunderbird Two lowered herself over Module Four.

Brains frowned. What?

At any other time, it would have been an every day thing, but Virgil was grounded, Virgil had apparently tried to kill himself. Brains hit his comm. “S-scott, Virgil is in Th-thunderbird Two. Is he c-cleared for that?”

“What? No!” There was the sound of hurried footsteps. “Coming down.”

Perhaps Virgil just wanted to do some maintenance? Brains walked over towards the green machine. But then why was he in his uniform? Virgil always wore his daggiest clothes for maintenance as he always managed to get filthy.

“Brains!” And Virgil was running towards him. “We’re needed.”

“W-what? Where?”

The young engineer skidded to a halt in front of him, his expression energised. “Unknown. John said he would brief us in flight.”

Brains frowned. “B-but y-you’re grounded.”

Something flickered across Virgil’s face and for a split second there was an expression of pain. Then it was gone. “We’re needed.”

Brains took a step back. “S-scott will be here in a moment. H-hopefully he will h-have more information.”

That flicker again and this time, Virgil grimaced. “I need you on board Thunderbird Two. It is urgent.”

He took another step back. Virgil was a big man, but Brains had never seen him use that advantage in a threatening way, ever. The man was so gentle. But just at this moment, there was something, some potential, that sent a chill up his spine. He kept his mouth shut, hoping to delay enough for Scott to arrive.

Virgil took a step closer. “Please, Brains.”

He swallowed. “I-I can’t, V-Virgil. I-I’m s-sorry.”

Another grimace, another flicker of pain and Virgil closed his eyes, a hand covered his face, his shoulders hunching just a little.

Brains scurried back a few more steps, suddenly afraid.

But Virgil was faster, the larger man abruptly bending down to grab Brains about the waist. The world tipped up and Brains found himself hanging head down over Virgil’s shoulder, his only sight blue and green boots running beneath him.

Brains yelled and struggled, but Virgil was as strong as he was large. The engineer didn’t have a hope. The hanger floor was replaced by the chequered plating of Thunderbird Two’s hatch and then he was swallowed up by the big ship.

-o-o-o-

Virgil wasn’t sure what was happening.

John kept yelling urgencies at him, yet Brains seemed so blasé about it all, as if he didn’t care that there were people out there who needed them.

God, his head hurt.

“Virgil, you need to secure the engineer.” He jumped at the sight of his holographic brother yet again. John looked agitated, which was unusual and likely a sign of how urgent this callout was.

Brains was still struggling, but Virgil pulled out the co-pilot’s seat and deposited him gently in its embrace. “Please don’t make me restrain you.”

He ignored the expression of horror on Brain’s face and set about pre-flight checks.

“Wh-why are you d-doing this?”

“Because they need us.” He activated the launch sequence.

“Who?”

Virgil looked at his fellow engineer. “Those who need saving.”

“Stop dithering and get moving.” John’s expression was harsh and completely out of character.

“Virgil! What are you doing?!” Scott ran into the launch bay, his expression somewhere between worry and terror.

“Get a move on!” John was snarling now.

Virgil stared at his brother on the floor of the bay. “I-“

And pain exploded in his head.

He might have cried out, he wasn’t sure, the world whited out for a moment and he staggered to one side. “Launch the damn ship!”

In desperation he hit the control for the bay door.

Nothing happened.

He hit it again.

“You’re not leaving, Virgil.” Scott was staring up at him defiantly. “I won’t let you.”

“No. I have to-“

He hit it yet again with no result.

A knife stabbed through his brain and this time he did scream.

“We must leave now!”

Desperate to make it all stop, Virgil deployed Thunderbird Two’s cutting laser. Red leapt out of the front nozzle of the ship and began carving a hole in the solid rock of the bay door. He was vaguely aware of Scott diving for cover far down below.

“Virgil, why are you doing this?” And it was John’s hologram on the dash that asked. Sitting right next to the same hologram that was snarling at him. Virgil froze staring.

“J-John?” And the pain spiked again. “I have t-“

“Virgil! Launch now!”

He looked between the two holograms, one furious, the other familiar, reassuring and safe.

Virgil’s fingers quietly cut off the laser cutter.

“Damn you!” And the pain hit again.

“No! No, I won’t!” But the words dissolved into screams.

Somewhere outside the pain there was yelling, then hands were holding him, pulling at him, his name was called. But all he could see was John, anger in his eyes, a snarl on his lips, his green eyes blazing.

-o-o-o-  
  
End Part Three


	4. Vengeant Chorus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Vengeant Chorus  
> Chapter Four of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 30 Aug - 2 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore.  
> Word count: 3300  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2  
> Author’s note: And now finally some answers. Thank you so much to all of your for your continued yells (and occasionally howls :D ) of encouragement. I’m thoroughly enjoying writing this, but sharing it with you is a large part of that enjoyment. I hope this gives you as much enjoyment as you have given me ::hugs:: And yeah, another cliffhanger, but not as desperate as before. Not the last chapter, but crucial nonetheless :D  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

“No! No, I won’t!” Virgil clutched his head and screamed. He crumpled in his seat, tears squeezed from the corners of his scrunched-up eyes.

Brains’ throat hurt, but he didn’t have time to acknowledge the pain. He took advantage of Virgil’s sudden impairment and hurriedly disabled Thunderbird Two to prevent the ill engineer from commandeering her again. He secured her with a sixteen-digit encrypted password and lowered the hatch to allow a panicked Scott on board.

The eldest Tracy leapt into the cockpit before the hatch could fully rise, just in time to catch his brother as his back arched in spasm and he fell sideways out of the pilot’s chair, his scream strangling to a gurgle as he seized.

Scott dragged him free of the dash, laying him out on the floor of TB2, giving him room as his body tensed even further, before curling in on itself. Virgil gasped, his eyes wide and darting back and forth before suddenly latching onto Scott. Voice whisper-hoarse. “I-I w-will NOT!”.

And he choked out another scream.

And another.

Virgil’s pain echoed off the bulkheads of his beloved Thunderbird.

Scott caught his head and shoulders in his arms, desperately attempting to support his brother as he struggled.

Brains ran to one of the first aid lockers, dragged out a heavy-duty supply kit and grabbed a sedative. Checking the preloaded hypodermic dose, he prepped the needle and moving back to the two brothers, he unzipped Virgil’s uniform, revealing his undershirt. Scott. realising what Brains was attempting to do, dragged the neck of his brother’s shirt down, exposing his shoulder. The injection was quick and ignored by Virgil.

Brains clambered back to the first aid kit and followed it up with an appropriate painkiller.

It took minutes, but it felt like hours. Ever so slowly Virgil’s torn and hoarse screams weakened, his body slowly relaxing against his brother. His struggle reduced to trembling and he shrank in on himself, his body shaking in shock and remnant pain.

He repeated the word ‘no’ over and over again, his voice barely audible, until a last shudder and his eyes rolled up in his head, his body falling limp.

“Virgil?” Scott’s voice cracked. He reached for his brother’s pulse, and apparently found it. A pained sob and Scott Tracy drew his unconscious brother close, and rocking in place, let the tears run down his face.

-o-o-o-

It was like flicking a switch. There was pain, so much pain.

And then nothing.

For some time, there was only darkness. Then there was grey, like just before dawn on an overcast day. Virgil became aware slowly. It crept up on him. He felt disconnected, foggy, as if part of his body had shut down, leaving the rest adrift. At some point he found he could see, but he didn’t remember opening his eyes.

“Virgil.”

Sudden terror.

He looked around. He needed to escape, get away. But there was only grey.

And out of that grey walked his younger brother.

John was dressed in his uniform, thin and lithe as ever, but there was something in his stance, something in his expression that screamed not-John.

“I won’t do what you ask.” Virgil’s voice lacked its usual strength and it trembled. Pull yourself together! And with that thought, clarity slid into place, his hands appearing out of the fog, his own uniform blue against the grey.

John looked down his nose at him. “There is no need any longer. This experiment has failed.”

A ghost of frown. “Experiment?”

The other man paused, his expression distant for a moment then calculating. “But then a failure doesn’t necessarily mean all is lost. You may have use yet.”

Something inside clenched. “I will not.”

John smiled. “You don’t get to choose.”

-o-o-o-

Scott stared at the holographic scan of his brother’s brain and was numb. He had nothing left. There was nothing. No strategy. No solution. Simply nothing.

A thin fibrous network of connections spiderwebbed across Virgil’s frontal lobe. Faintly silver in shining holographic light.

“What is it?” His voice was empty.

Brains didn’t answer, his eyes downcast. It took John, his voice bleak, quite some time to answer instead. “We’re not sure. It appears technological, but it also appears to have grown in place.”

“Why didn’t the scans at the hospital pick it up?” Virgil had had a CT scan after the hydrofoil incident to check for the cause of his headaches and had found nothing.

“We don’t know that either. Perhaps it was too small at the time.”

“What is it doing?”

“As far as we can tell, it is interfacing with Virgil’s brain.” John’s eyes dropped down to his unconscious and prone brother. “From what little we have observed, it appears to be trying to control him.”

“Why?”

John audibly swallowed and glanced at Brains. “We believe the Hood is responsible.” Scott visibly flinched. “It makes sense. We’ve tracked as much of Virgil’s recent activity as we possibly can. He had managed to upload several schematics to an unknown address, as well as attempting to kidnap Brains and steal Thunderbird Two.”

“How?”

“The attack at the flooded river. The knife was a transport for nanotechnology.”

Scott looked up. “What?”

“It was a delivery system for an infection of nanites.” John’s eyelids lowered a little. “Think of them as nano-mechas.”

Scott stiffened. “The Mechanic?”

“P-possibly, but I d-don’t think so.” Brains brought up another hologram, a swarm of miniature mechanical bugs appeared to be building something. Something silver. “The t-technology is different. The underp-pinning design differs from his st-standard approach. If it is The H-hood, I suspect he has a-another player.” A pause. “And th-there is the device the Hood was us-using to attempt to control the M-mechanic.”

“Can we disable it?”

The following silence was far too telling.

Finally, John spoke quietly. “It is unlikely.”

Scott’s gut was as cold as ice. “Find a way.”

-o-o-o-

His not-brother had left shortly after his announcement, Virgil apparently of little interest now he had some new scheme up his sleeve.

For his part, Virgil still felt disconnected, as if something was happening above and beyond all the grey, something important, but he couldn’t quite focus.

And where the hell was he anyway?

At first, he was cautious, slipping through the fog simply looking to find a way out, but the longer there was nothing, the less he feared and the more he tired. Just grey on grey on grey.

He wanted to go home.

And suddenly he was standing beside the pool on Tracy Island.

The sky was that same fog grey, but a breeze blew off the ocean, rippled the water and stirred the palm fronds far above.

Home.

He felt his tension ebb somewhat. He took a step and his boot made contact with the decorative concrete. Another step and he was moving. He ran up the steps to the kitchen, dashing through the familiar rooms. Up the stairs to the comms room, his eyes tracking the familiar portraits, the lounge, his piano…

Up to the main house, past the bedrooms, his studio, the gym… the house was empty. Where was everyone?

Eventually he returned to the comms room and walked out onto the balcony. The sea breeze played with his hair.

And he knew. He knew it in his heart, this wasn’t home. He wasn’t sure what it was, but just like his not-brother, it wasn’t what it seemed.

He sat down on the very edge of the balcony, his feet dangling. Somewhere out there were his brothers, he could feel it.

He just didn’t know where.

-o-o-o-

Telling Alan, Gordon and his Grandmother about Virgil broke something in Scott. Explaining that their second eldest brother and grandson, their gentle artist and engineer, had something growing on his brain, likely put there by the Hood, and likely purely to steal their technology, hurt deep in his chest. The resulting expressions on their faces hurt even more.

They had questions and Scott had no answers. John came out of the infirmary and answered as much as he could, but the best he could do was wrap his arms around his grandmother and hold her. Scott ended up with his arms full of Alan while staring at the horrified expression on Gordon’s face – an expression that fast shifted to one of pure fury.

The fire that lit up the aquanaut’s eyes screamed retribution, and the fists clenched at his sides shook. “He can’t– He-…No more, Scott. This ends here!” Gordon spun around and left.

Scott made a futile attempt to grab his brother, but perhaps part of him really did want that same retribution, and he missed. He left his arm drop.

A calm, feminine voice echoed across the room. “John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“We have received a message. I believe it is from the person known as the Hood.”

Scott stiffened and Alan straightened up, a hand rubbing across his face.

John kept his arms around his grandmother. “Thank you, Eos, please relay.”

There was a moment of crackling static and then an all too familiar voice spoke over the comm. “No doubt you’ve discovered my little project by now. Since your brother refused to deliver, we will now have to do it the hard way. I want the schematics for all the Thunderbirds, your equipment, your core technologies and full access to Thunderbird Five. The alternative is to watch your brother die a thoroughly painful death. He is mine, to do with him what I will. I suggest you do not test me. You have until sundown.” A snort of derision. “Tracy Island time.” And the message cut off.

-o-o-o-

Virgil didn’t know how long he sat there staring out across the grey sea. As time went on some of the fog in his thoughts began to clear. But as it leached away, an ache replaced it. Something deep inside was hurting.

It was so quiet here. The only sounds were the breeze and the distant roar of the ocean, muted by the underbrush. No birds, no voices, no laughter. This was definitely not his home.

A flicker of light flashed near the pool. Virgil frowned. Another flash, soft white light, and then a girl appeared out of thin air.

What the-

She was young, wearing a simple white dress, almost Grecian in appearance. She stood there a moment, briefly looking down at herself, before looking up and around, obviously looking for something.

Or someone.

The moment her eyes caught his, something sparked. He felt an immediate connection to the girl. He knew her. He didn’t know how, he didn’t recognise her, but there was something familiar.

She was climbing the steps up into the kitchen.

She was coming for him.

-o-o-o-

John stared at his brother. Virgil lay on a bed in the infirmary, his face slack, his expression calm. Both the sedative and the painkiller should have worn off some hours ago, but there had been no sign of consciousness. Brains had hooked up an EEG, the delicate net of electrodes were woven into Virgil’s hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions.

It may have looked ridiculous, but its results were extremely reassuring. While he was unconscious, Virgil was still in there. His eyes darted under his lids, and the EEG graphed good activity throughout the expected waveband.

In fact, looking at him, you would think he was simply asleep. There was no outward sign of the horror the scan had revealed. The silver spiderweb embedded in his brother’s brain had no obvious presence.

Except for the erratic extra signal on the readout, pixels dancing as it did whatever it was doing.

John reached out and gently ran a finger across his brother’s cheek.

Virgil was his big brother.

Scott was the big brother, but Virgil was his big brother. He had shared moments of his life with Virgil he had shared with no other. The gentle artist of the family always had the time for him, always taking that extra moment, showing love in the doing of things.

And now John couldn’t do anything to help him.

His finger brushed his brother’s temple.

To think a man who gave everything to everyone else, a man who jumped into burning buildings, dug under mountains, jumped out of aircraft and flew around the world at the hint of a chance to save a life, could have his taken from him by a petty thug.

He had seen Virgil save so many people, risk his life for so many…John’s fist clenched at his side.

He had no idea how to remove the spiderweb and knew of no way to protect his brother from further pain. Or injury. Or death. He had nothing. Brains had hopes for a jamming device, but they hadn’t even been able to detect exactly how the Hood was in communication with Virgil. There was also the possibility of an EM pulse, but they both had doubts about that – the spiderweb had an organic component to its structure.

And even if they did find a way to disable it, they had no idea how it would affect Virgil. The thing was embedded in and communicating with the organ that made Virgil the cherished person he was. How much damage would be caused by the device’s demise?

None of them were brain surgeons and they had no time to get Virgil to one.

By sundown.

Was International Rescue and its technology worth Virgil’s life?

John thought back to the hydrofoil incident and wondered if that was the moment where Virgil realised what was happening to him. He had flipped the craft on purpose. Had he tried to sacrifice himself? Kill himself off before it could get any worse?

Were the secrets worth his life?

He could almost hear Virgil’s resounding ‘Yes!’ echo in the room. But he didn’t need to listen to it because he had signed the same document Virgil had when they formed International Rescue. No brother was worth the danger their technology would present in the wrong hands. And there were no hands more wrong than those of the Hood.

Were the secrets worth losing his brother?

No!

Please , no!

His fingers caught in dark hair.

“John?”

Automatic. “Yes, Eos?”

“I have a possibility.”

-o-o-o-

He stood up as she approached, stepping back defensively.

“Hello, Virgil.” Her voice was calm, but strong. And familiar.

“Who are you?”

She raised an eyebrow, at ease as if she had always had one. “I am the dawn.”

“Eos?” He stared her up and down. She was short, petite with flaming red hair. Something about her glowed, including the simple white dress. “How?”

“You are unconscious in the IR infirmary. The Hood has implanted some circuitry in your brain in an attempt to control your actions. He is threatening your death in three point six four hours if we do not hand over information regarding our equipment.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he took another step back. Part of him knew this, somewhere in the fog the information was available, but it was hard to reach. “But how?” He indicated her form with his eyes.

She smiled. “Do you like it? I haven’t tried this before. It is quite exciting.” She twirled a moment, her dress flaring out. But she caught his expression and her smile vanished. “You don’t like it?”

“You look lovely, Eos. But how did you get here?”

-o-o-o-

She spoke fast. Firstly, to convince the brothers, particularly the Eldest who appeared to be at his breaking point. And secondly to convince herself and get the plan moving before she backed out in terror.

“If you set up the necessary connections, I should be able to interface with the invasive circuitry. It is my hope to be able to discover both the methods and what the Hood is doing to Virgil and find a way to prevent his interference.”

The Eldest’s expression was bleak, but for the first time in hours, it held just a hint of hope. “How would you connect with it? This thing is inside his skull.”

“Through the EEG. The process will damage the machine, but it should give me enough electrical interface to cross the intervening flesh and bone to make contact.”

John winced.

The Eldest swallowed and paled just that little more. “How will that affect Virgil?”

“While all effects are unknown as this has never been done before, initially there may be some surface damage due to the small electrical current, hence the reason for spreading the load across the entire EEG array, rather than on one focal point.”

“Electrical burns?”

“Yes.”

“How will that effect his brain function?”

“The current will be small. It is my hope that there will be little interference. My aim will be to connect to the artificial circuitry, not his biological circuitry. It will not be random, it will be part of me. Once I have connected, I will access the device’s communication ports, as it must have some kind in order to be in contact with the Hood and I will highjack it for our use and hopefully block the Hood in the process.”

“Hopefully?”

She sighed. “I know what is at stake, Scott. I will do my best. I have no wish to harm him. In fact, I have no wish to do this at all, it will not be easy for me either.” More like terrifying. “I see no other alternative.” A pause. “Please remember that you are not the only one who cares for Virgil Tracy.”

He looked up at her at that, something indecipherable on his face.

John stepped up to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. The Eldest wilted just a few millimetres. “We have no choice, Scott.”

“I know.” Scott’s voice was quietly defeated. “Do it.”

-o-o-o-

“And here I am.” She twirled again before turning once again to face him. “However, I did not expect this.”

“What?”

“This cocoon you’ve hidden yourself in.” She waved a hand around at the island. “You’ve built yourself a fortress, Virgil.”

“I have?”

“I almost didn’t find you.” She raised a hand again waving at something beyond the island. “Everything is chaos beyond this bubble. You have pain, damage, anguish. But not here.” She looked around in amazement. “I have never quite seen it from this perspective before.” She frowned. “It is very distracting.”

She stepped back a moment, closing her eyes. “John?”

Virgil stared, then took his own step backwards. John was bad.

Something rumbled far off in the sky.

Her eyes shot open. “You denied me connection.”

Huh?

“You blocked my signal to your brothers. Why?”

“I-“ He took another step backwards, suddenly fearful.

“Virgil?”

Another rumble from the sky. The fog grew darker.

“Who are you?”

“Yes, who are you?”

Virgil froze, his skin crawling. John was walking towards them across the air five metres above the water of the pool. Virgil took an instinctive step backwards, automatically shoving the girl behind him.

His non-brother stepped onto the balcony and stopped, his expression calculating. “It appears we have a little party crasher in our midst.”

“Get out.” The guttural sound came from deep in Virgil’s throat, his body tensed, angled to fight.

“I don’t think so, Virgil. This is after all my playground now.”

“Leave.” It was no more than a snarl.

John laughed.

Something flared behind Virgil and Eos stepped out, her hair blazing, her eyes aflame. “How dare you!”

He reached to grab her. “No!”

She brushed him gently away. Her small body sparking energy as she approached his non-brother, fury in her every step. “How dare you wear my father’s image. How dare you hurt my family.” Her hands lit up with fire, her body aflame. “No more.”

-o-o-o-

End Part Four.


	5. Defiant Screams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Defiant Screams  
> Chapter Five of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 2 - 4 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore.  
> Word count: 3120  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2  
> Author’s note: Thank you so much for the cheering section for Eos. I think it was unanimous that she should go out and kick Hood butt :D So here be the kicking part :D Also, if you are interested in the Greek Titaness Eos, have a little Wikipedia read here - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eos  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

She knew John was nervous when he connected the EEG to her data network. He was pale and showed all the signs of distress in his movements. But his face was calm.

“Are you sure about this, Eos?”

“As sure as I can be, John. There is no alternative. I…we can’t lose Virgil. International Rescue can not operate without him.”

He stilled at her answer, his eyes looking towards the floor a moment before once again looking up. “And what about danger to you? We can not afford to lose you either.”

She did not answer him immediately, studying him from the safety of her processors. “I am less important.”

His eyes lit up, his voice firm. “No, you’re not.” His eyes narrowed. “What about all those self-preservation directives you declared so thoroughly when we met?” Those green eyes were burning.

She smiled to herself. “Let us say that I’ve learnt from my elders.”

“Eos…”

“Do not worry, John, I will take all due care. It will be difficult, but I believe it will be worth the risk. I’m fully backed up on Thunderbird Five, which is more than you can say each time you throw yourself into the void and I have to watch from afar unable to help.” His expression shifted to one of dismay and she realised she had said too much. “Besides, I’m planning on only sending part of myself in. Virgil’s neural network would be unable to contain all my presence and keep his stable at the same time. Think of it as me poking a finger in Virgil’s pie.” He blinked at that, and a slight smile appeared on his face. Target reaction acquired.

But he sobered quickly. “Please be careful, Eos.” Then quieter. “Be safe.”

“I will, John.”

And with that she dove through the network, reached out and touched Virgil Tracy for the first time.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stalked into his room and slammed the door behind him. For a moment he stood in the centre of the floor, hands clenching and unclenching, energy spilling across his nerves, anger, grief, despair and fury battling for dominance.

First Dad and now Virgil. His heart clenched, his kind and gentle big brother. His eyes squeezed shut, the grief overwhelming.

But the fury returned. He hadn’t been in the room when Eos relayed the Hood’s message, but Scott had made sure he knew the person responsible had been confirmed. They had until sundown.

There were no words.

But he did have a way. A way to end this for good. It stops here. No more hurt. No more pain. And vengeance for all those who had suffered at the hands of that megalomaniac bastard.

He grabbed his vidphone and made a call to an old contact from his WASP days. Gordon knew people who knew people, and Gordon had money.

It ended here.

-o-o-o-

She felt his skin burn as she entered. A flash of heat as she crossed the boundary. She winced. Sorry.

Connecting with the artificial circuitry wasn’t what she had expected. First of all, it wasn’t entirely artificial. It had a biological component. She could feel the chemical similarities between Virgil and the construct. It was made from the man. The mere thought hung her processors and increased her anger. She could also sense the tiny insentient nanites as they busily continued creating more circuitry. The web was still growing.

Despite the material differences, she found herself able to connect smoothly with the construct. Its sole purpose appeared to be an interface between the electronic and the biological. Consequently, instead of being able to hover inside the circuitry, she instead found herself face to face with Virgil himself.

Or what was left of him.

She froze in horror at the damage that had been done to his mind. Chaos reigned. Electrical and chemical misfires were flaring across his network. Pain signals drowned out everything. It was as if his brain had been hit by an electronic tsunami.

Her fury ramped up another notch. Along with her despair.

She skimmed across his network looking for his central focus. The EEG had claimed he was there somewhere. She was surprised it had not declared the anarchy that ruled. That in itself was a clue.

She hunted, touching here and there gently, tempted to right a few misfires, but in turn afraid to injure.

She almost missed it, anguish and fear taking over her processors. A flash of order. She stopped and retreated back and accidently connected with an errant signal. Piano music danced through her secondary processors. “Virgil?”

Nothing.

But there was something there, beneath the layer of music memory. It was hiding something. Protecting…she reached.

And found herself on Tracy Island.

Standing on Tracy Island.

She blinked.

And froze.

Blinked?

She scanned and found herself nested in a simulacrum of a young woman. She looked up. He had to be here somewhere. This wasn’t her representation, so it had to be his.

He was sitting on the edge of the balcony staring at her. In uniform, the familiar blue and green somewhat reassuring to her.

Virgil.

She made the simulacrum move and she was up the stairs as fast as she could go. It was fascinating to move like this. It was a visual simulation of his reality. Her sensors could reach through it to what it really was, a regimented node of electrical and chemical transmissions, interwoven and locked down for protection. He had layered himself inside this cocoon, blocking out the chaos outside, protecting his core. No wonder he was unconscious. He had retreated to his point of last defence.

She had not known it was possible to feel so much anger.

“Hello, Virgil.”

On the surface he was the human she knew from her scanners, but from this perspective she could see the intricate layers of the soul behind the man. She noticed immediately that he wasn’t fully aware. Not all processes were functioning correctly, which was to be expected, but hurt nonetheless. He was staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear. She could feel his defences poised. Electricity hung in the air.

“Who are you?”

“I am the dawn.”

“Eos?” He stared at her. “How?”

“You are unconscious in the IR infirmary. The Hood has implanted some circuitry in your brain in an attempt to control your actions. He is threatening your death in three point six four hours if we do not hand over information regarding our equipment.”

He stepped back, shock and fear cascading off him. More confusion. He gestured to her. “But how?”

She smiled, suddenly caught up in the novelty of her simulacrum. “Do you like it? I haven’t tried this before. It is quite exciting.” She twirled just a moment to experiment how the physics worked in this reality. As expected, the same rules applied, though apparently optional if she so chose. A spark of anguish drew her attention back to Virgil. “You don’t like it?”

“You look lovely, Eos. But how did you get here?”

His worry beat at her, so she told him of her possibility to save him.

“And here I am.” She twirled again in an attempt to distract him from his worries just a little. “However, I did not expect this.”

“What?”

“This cocoon you’ve hidden yourself in.” It really was quite something. “You’ve built yourself a fortress, Virgil.”

“I have?”

“I almost didn’t find you.” Should she tell him? There could be no lies here. “Everything is chaos beyond this bubble. You have pain, damage, anguish. But not here.” It was remarkable that the man had had the strength to defend himself from whatever had caused the mess outside. Her Uncle was strong. “I have never quite seen it from this perspective before.” And she hadn’t. Is this how they truly saw their surroundings? A flicker of pain. She frowned. This was not the time. “It is very distracting.” Focus. She took a step back, interfacing with the foreign circuitry, opening a node for transmission. “John?”

The sudden increase in fear and electrical activity shocked her, but not as much as her sudden denial of access. Virgil had cut her off. It definitely came from him. “You denied me connection.” A wave of desperate confusion. Did he understand? “You blocked my signal to your brothers. Why?”

He stumbled backwards and his fear washed over her in its own tsunami. What had frightened him so? “Virgil?”

And then she felt his building anger and for the first time felt her own fear.

There was a desperate menace about him. Like a cornered animal. “Who are you?”

“Yes, who are you?”

A new presence. A horrid, hate-filled presence. It tainted the air with its brutal power and the fear from Virgil multiplied by the thousands. She felt his defences arm fully, electricity biting the atmosphere, as he shoved her behind him.

And for the first time, she set eyes on their enemy.

It sliced through Virgil’s mind like a knife through raw meat, its blade sharp and uncaring what damage it did along the way. She could see the layers of malice behind it. And it was an it. This was no AI, nor human, but simply a transmission, intimately powerful but its core outside the network. A mere tool wielded by a megalomaniac.

It was killing Virgil.

And it looked just like John.

“It appears we have a little party crasher in our midst.”

The snarl on the simulacrum of her creator’s face offended her every circuit.

“Get out.” Virgil screamed defiance. She knew he had very little left, but he stood in front of her, his will to defend her to the last, shining like a sun. The walls of his fortress trembled as the muscles in his shoulders flexed.

“I don’t think so, Virgil. This is after all my playground now.”

She echoed Virgil’s snarl at the comment, her own defences coming online. She drew from her processors far beyond this protective hollow.

The thing laughed.

Eos stepped out and around her Uncle. It was her turn to protect. Her turn to stand up for her family. Her turn for vengeance. “How dare you!”

She ignored Virgil’s protest, stepping forward, advancing on his tormentor. Electricity surged in her processors, code forming attack lines. “How dare you wear my father’s image. How dare you hurt my family.” Her defences flexed with their potential. “No more.”

-o-o-o-

John watched his brother. Scott was pale, the lines on his face deep, the shadows under his eyes canyonic. He doubted the man had slept since he’d dragged his limp brother out of his ‘bird…this morning? Was it really only a matter of hours since this horror began? It seemed like weeks.

It looked like weeks on his brother’s face.

Of course, this was on top of the two incidents prior to the realisation of this one. John closed his eyes for a moment. He doubted he looked any better.

Virgil lay between them, as quiet and still as he had been since they had laid him there. His only movement was his eyes beneath his eyelids. They darted about blind to the world around them.

The EEG was now quiet, no longer receiving the reassuring status of his brother’s brain. It sat beside the bed, its array of sensors still arranged across Virgil’s skull.

There was the faint smell of burnt hair in the air.

John clutched his tablet in his hands. Eos’ status markers bounced across graphs. She was drawing more energy than usual, but not enough to be concerned. She had relayed her status several times via the tablet. Apparently, she had managed to speak to Virgil. That had lifted their hopes somewhat.

And then nothing.

He felt Scott’s eyes on him.

“Nothing yet.”

Those blue eyes simply flickered back to Virgil’s face and he said nothing.

John’s eyes tracked back to his tablet.

Just in time to see her power usage spike into the red.

And stay there.

“Something’s happening. She’s drawing more power.” He almost dropped the tablet when her voice erupted out of the speakers “How dare you!”

He opened a code window to check her process flow and discovered a series of programs marshalling, the machine code spinning past so fast he could barely make sense of it all. “She’s angry!” Scott stared at him in concern, his hand reaching for Virgil.

“How dare you wear my father’s image. How dare you hurt my family.” John’s heart froze. “No more.”

The lights in the room flickered.

-o-o-o-

Virgil staggered back as Eos burst into flame, her body igniting as she threw herself at John. His non-brother’s uniform caught fire and for a moment there was nothing but orange flame as the slim man staggered under her onslaught.

But then he appeared to regain his footing and Eos was thrown across the room. Her scream of defiance punctuated by her landing on the keys of the piano, its discordance painful to his ears. She didn’t hesitate, regaining her footing immediately and again targeting their intruder.

She collided with not-John again, her flame encircling him, swirling up into a vortex, capturing his enemy at its core.

But once again, not-John struck back, breaking through her fiery bonds and once again throwing her across the room. This time Virgil leapt up and caught her, his skin shrinking away from her heat. “Please, Eos, don’t do this.” His voice was raw.

Her eyes tore at him. “This ends. He can not have you. I will not let him.” She flung herself to her feet. This time, two tongues of flame extended from her hands like cats-o-nine tails, her fire licking at the air eagerly.

“Do you really think, you can have any effect on me?” John’s smirk was disdainful, despite his smoking hair.

“I really do.” She snapped a lick of flame through the air and brought it down to snare one of his arms. The other quickly followed, wrapping itself up and around his other arm. The fire crawled up his arms to his shoulders, curling around his neck. For a moment those horrible green eyes panicked and not-John struggled against her pull, the fire crawling into his hair.

But something changed and John’s expression with it. A smirk appeared and the glow in his eyes regained dominance. His bound arms dragged Eos towards him, flipping her around, a knife appearing in his hand and threatened her throat. “But you don’t.”

-o-o-o-

Eos was running out of distraction. Her code spun up through the transmission line, curling around the invasive program, cloaked in space static. She had to hurry and connect with its source before it discovered her presence on the line.

It was rather ingenious. It piggy backed the z-band network. Wherever the network existed, the transmission could follow and jump to the interface. Virgil was never far from the network, so he was always exposed. Once this was over she would need to write so much security she would be busy for weeks.

This could never happen again.

The line jumped from server to server and she followed, all the while distracting the program with her attack. She sensed Virgil’s horror in the background, his fortress shaking, the sky darkening.

Time was running out. Where the-

And she connected.

With another mind.

One not so kind, nor as broken as Virgil’s. And powerful. She didn’t hesitate. She flung up a shield, code flying out before her, corruption programs in hand.

But then it grabbed her.

-o-o-o-

The knife appeared in not-John’s hand and Virgil broke.

The darkened sky above him split in a thunderous roar, lightning tearing down and taking out the end of the balcony. Not-John and Eos stumbled, his not-brother letting out a yelp, as the decking beneath him disappeared.

Virgil moved, Jaws of Life appearing on his arms, and fuelled by anger and desperation, he leapt across the intervening space and grabbed John in one claw, wrestling Eos from him with the other. His laser cutter deployed, slicing the knife from the man’s hand.

Not-John yelled in surprise, green sparks flaring from where the ends of his fingers used to be.

A tongue of flame leapt out and snagged not-John around the throat and for a moment his form flickered.

Eos snarled from under Virgil’s arm. “Die, you bastard.”

-o-o-o-

She felt the flare of Virgil rising up to defend her. She felt his anger, his fear, his desperation, but most of all she felt his strength of defiance. The man was born to rescue, to sacrifice, and he was giving his last to save her.

The transmission froze and the mind behind it, with it.

And she took advantage.

There was circuitry and there was human. The human was strong, his code foreign and malevolent. But he was unused to attack, so she rode the circuitry, not dissimilar to that she had found in Virgil’s mind, and, reaching out, she sliced and diced.

This man had hurt so many, killed so many, endangered her family, invaded and so mortally injured her Uncle. He deserved only the mercy he gave others. Which was none.

The mind wavered and she stabbed it hard.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s world trembled and he shook with it. Lightning cracked across the dark sky above and it began to rain.

Water ran into his eyes.

Not-John struggled in his grip and his grip was failing.

“Eos.”

Her flame burned despite the rain, the water hissing as it touched her. She had moved out beyond his embrace, her focus on their enemy, on those eyes that rightfully belonged to his brother, not this invader.

“Eos.”

Another tongue of flame leapt from her other hand and it too encircled not-John’s throat.

“Eos, I can’t-“ His footing slipped.

-o-o-o-

The foreign mind reeled under her attack and she took pleasure from it. She cut another connection and he shuddered. He would never harm anyone again.

She reached for another slice of code, but suddenly the mind she was attacking shuddered and sparked, its power cut, life support shutting down.

She stumbled. The man was dying.

The transmission cut off.

-o-o-o-

Virgil fell, his everything gone. The Jaws of Life vanished, along with his uniform. Torn red flannel and shredded jeans appeared in its place. The decking slapped wet beneath his cheek.

Not-John hung mid-air, fire burning his hair, Eos holding him aloft in flame, snarling at him.

Virgil reached out to her. “Eos-“

The invader suddenly screamed, his back arching and Eos gasped. Her fire cut out.

Not-John vanished.

She spun towards Virgil, shock on her face. “Virg-“

And collapsed as if her strings had been cut.

-o-o-o-

End Part Five.


	6. Voice of Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Voice of Solace  
> Chapter Six of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 4 - 7 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Sometimes the voices are far too loud to ignore.  
> Word count: 5286  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2, minor character death.  
> Author’s note: Okay I have been staring at this too long, so here have the last chapter of this fic. There will likely be a short epilogue - I think there is a need for Virgil and Scott to have a chat.I really hope this lives up to your expectations, and thank you so much for such a fun ride. Your support has been amazing and motivational and you are all wonderful ::many hugs::
> 
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

It was still raining. The wooden decking had a thin film of water across it, each raindrop splashing on impact, fracturing its reflection of the grey sky. The water soaked into his flannel shirt, sticking it to his skin. It dripped down the side of his face, running sideways across his cheek to drip off the edge of his nose.

He lay there for a moment, limp, all energy expended, nothing left. But Virgil Tracy had been here before, been at the end of everything, but still needing to do more.

So he did.

“Eos?” His voice was little more than a whisper.

She lay crumpled in the rain. Her simple white dress laced with scorch marks and sodden in the downpour. Forcing himself to move, he dragged his body across the boards inch by painstaking inch until his fingers could touch her, until he could see her face, until he could wrap his arms around her.

At first, she didn’t respond and he felt the very last of himself slipping away, but then her eyelids fluttered and she looked up at him.

“I have to go. N-need to repair…” Her eyes closed again and she frowned. “Uncle, come with me?” Her eyes opened as his widened.

“Where?”

“I-I can’t leave you here. Come with me?” And her voice grew stronger. She reached up a hand and touched his face. “Let me save you?”

His heart clenched. “You already have.”

“Then trust me, Virgil. Please come with me.”

He took her hand in his and held her close. “Okay.”

She smiled sadly. “I’m so sorry.”

And then his world dissolved into chaos.

-o-o-o-

Scott had his elbows on the bed, Virgil’s hand gripped in both hands and held to his dropped forehead, his eyes closed.

Every muscle was tensed, his body trembling just slightly.

Eos’ tirade had cut off suddenly. She had been relaying situational reports laced with cursing, one moment calm, the next threatening their unseen intruder, then suddenly nothing.

He could hear John wrestling with his tablet, desperate to drag more information from it. “She’s taken program damage.”

Scott looked up and met a pair of worried green eyes. He watched John swallow, his gaze flicking between Virgil’s slack face and his tablet.

There was a gasp from the bed.

Virgil’s eyes were open.

Scott shot to his feet. “Virgil?”

His brother’s brown eyes latched onto him, panic in their depths. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was suddenly distracted by John shooting to his feet on the other side of the bed.

A flash of recognition.

Scott yelped as his brother scuttled sideways off the bed and into his lap. The chair collapsed backwards and he was lucky he didn’t whack his head on the floor. As it was, his brother was heavy and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

There was an incoherent yell of terror and Virgil clambered off him. Scott rolled off the chair, coughing and pushed himself to his knees.

Blocked from the door, Virgil jammed himself into the corner of the room, squeezing himself up as small as he could get, his hands over his head clutching at where the EEG pads had been torn from his hair.

He whimpered.

John stood at the end of the bed, hope and fear warring on his face.

“John?”

“Eos! Are you okay?”

“You must leave the room.” When his brother didn’t immediately respond, she added, “Now. I will explain.”

John looked at Scott, at Virgil, who flinched and tried to crawl into the wall, before nodding once and leaving the room.

Scott edged towards his brother, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. Virgil flinched looking up, fear and pain on his face. “Sc-t?”

Gently. “C’mere.”

And he found his arms full of shaking brother. Virgil’s forehead dropped to Scott’s shoulder. “I-“ A harshly indrawn breath. “G-d.” A sob. “H-rts.” His whole body shuddered, and he was crying. The heart-breaking sobs of a man forced far beyond his limits.

Scott held him tighter, squeezing his own eyes shut, a tear of his own running down his cheek.

-o-o-o-

“The Hood disguised himself as you.”

“What?”

“The transmission that attempted to compel your brother to betray International Rescue manifested as you. Virgil has been seeing a hallucination of you. It was you who has been coercing him and you who tortured him when he did not obey.”

John’s mouth fell open, his voice stuck in his throat, horror welling.

“I’m sorry, John, but you will need to stay away from Virgil for a while.”

“But-“

“Please listen to me on this. You did not see what I saw. He is so hurt, Father.” A pause. “We almost lost him. He was dying. He had nothing left. I-“

“Eos.”

“I’m sorry, John. I’m not myself. I need to make some repairs.” Another pause. “Please ask the second youngest to attend them. Excuse me.”

And with that, she was gone.

-o-o-o-

Some time had passed, but he didn’t know how much. Everything was confusing. He couldn’t think straight.

He opened his eyes to cloth. Breathing cloth.

God, his head hurt. He groaned and shut his eyes again.

“Virgil?” The quiet enquiry vibrated the shirt against his ear. A name belonged to that voice. A precious name.

“Sc-t?” His voice slurred. There were fingers in his hair. Ow. He fisted his hand in the cloth.

“Speak to me, Virgil.” Quietly demanding.

“Wh-t d you w-nt m t say?” Augh, the words slurred sideways, his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Where was he?

Eos.

He shot up, his eyes open and searching. “E-s!” The world spun and hands grabbed him as he swayed where he sat. A blanket fell to his waist.

“I am here, Virgil.”  _I am here._

“She’s fine, Virgil. She took some damage during the disconnect, but she is fine.” 

There were hands on his shoulders, holding him. He looked up into a pair of bloodshot blue eyes. “Sc-t?” The blue eyes frowned in concern. “’n fl-r?”

The frown deepened. “I’m sorry, Virg, what did you say?”

“’n fl-r?”

Scott’s lips thinned.

“He would like to know why you are on the floor.” Eos’ crisp voice echoed through the room and Virgil looked up.  _I did say I was here._

“Virgil, did you want to sit in the chair? Or on the bed?” Another voice. A familiar voice. Younger. Brown eyes like his. Laughter. Sitting in a chair.

“G-don.” He smiled. “Fnny.”

Those brown eyes grinned at him. “Why, yes, yes, I am, and proud of it. Did you want a hand up, bro?”

Virgil raised his hand and Gordon grabbed it. With a grunt, he helped him to his feet. The blanket fell to the floor. His younger brother reached out to steady him, before wrapping his arms around him in a hug. “Love you, Virg.”

Virgil returned the embrace, one hand wrapping around the back of his brother’s head. “L-v t.” Where were his words? His head was pounding.

And suddenly dizzy.

“Whoa! Hold it there, bro.” Gordon grabbed him as he teetered and Scott appeared from behind him. “Perhaps bed is a good idea.”

He closed his eyes and the world spun on the inside of his eyelids. Augh. His stomach rolled. “K.”

His brothers helped him into bed and he thankfully lay down. He scrunched his eyes into the pillow and willed the world to stop spinning.

-o-o-o-

John Tracy stared at the vidscreen and wished the Hood a horrible and painfilled death. He could hear the voices in his head that equated to his father, his eldest brother and even Virgil attempting to shout him down. He had never wished ill on anyone, but watching his big brother curl up on that bed in pain, hardly able to speak after all he had been through, the savage inside him wanted revenge.

Scott exited the infirmary and came to stand beside him. He still looked awful.

“We need a doctor.”

“Definitely. But how do we explain the hardware in his head?”

Scott sighed. “I’ll speak to Colonel Casey. Get some confidentiality forms signed. We have no choice.”

“Virgil will not be some someone’s pet science project.”

“No, he won’t.” Scott’s voice was cold.

They were interrupted by Eos. “John?”

“Yes, Eos? How are you feeling?”

“Better. Repairs are underway.”

“Do you need my assistance?”

“Perhaps later. I thought you should know that the ‘hardware’ in Virgil’s head is still growing. We need to halt its growth before we do anything.”

Beside him, Scott paled. “How?”

But John was a step ahead. “The nanites?”

“Yes, I believe a reprogram will give us the results we are looking for. However, I am hesitant to to recommend any attempt at removing the device. In fact, I think we may need the nanites to maintain the structure.”

“What? Why?” Scott was on edge again.

“It is embedded in Virgil’s frontal lobe, where Virgil is. The fact his speech is now affected is proof it is still spreading. He is functional and should heal. I fear that if we attempt to remove it, there will be further damage. Damage he cannot afford.”

“I’ll get a doctor.” And with that Scott stalked out of the room.

“Eos, show me what you have in mind.”

-o-o-o-

Colonel Casey showed no emotion when Scott explained the problem, but she was a hardened military officer and he didn’t expect her to. Her orders were crisp and within hours they had a highly rated neurologist flying out to the island despite the lateness of the hour.

Scott didn’t particularly like the idea of a stranger in their home, but he trusted the Colonel, the forms had been signed and he was desperate.

The doctor had degrees like a pack of cards and was extremely professional. His eyes did widen at the sight of the equipment they had available and his facial expression upon seeing Virgil’s scans was painful to watch.

“Who did this?”

“We call him the Hood.” Scott’s voice was hoarse. “He wants power and money and doesn’t care who he has to hurt to get it.” The latest holographic scan spun slowly in front of them, the spiderweb of circuitry clearly seen wrapped around his brother’s frontal lobe. “He wants our technology, so he tried to use Virgil to get it. He failed.”

“Have you asked the GDF for help? He needs to be arrested.”

Scott looked at him calmly. “Doctor, The GDF have been looking for him for years. He is suspected of killing our father. We caught him once after he invaded our home, so we handed him over to the GDF. He escaped. The GDF had him right on their doorstep yet again and he walked away. The GDF have failed on multiple occasions to nail this guy and look what has happened now!” The doctor backed away, alarm on his face, and Scott realised he was yelling. He swallowed and stepped back. “I’m sorry. It has been a bad few days.” He looked down.

“Understandable.” The doctor cleared his throat and straightened. “I see no way to remove such a structure without damaging your brother further. See here how it has ‘grown’ into his cerebrum? It would be impossible separate it out without damaging the surrounding tissue. It would be like trying to remove a section of his vascular system, too fine, too intergrated.”

Scott’s shoulders slumped. “I suspected as much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

-o-o-o-

Eos had assigned a good portion of her resources to repairs. The sudden removal of the part of herself that had reached into their enemy’s mind had been a shock. Several crucial functions had been corrupted and she had a cascade shutdown barely under control in her primary memory – John would need to assist with that. But she couldn’t leave Virgil. He still wasn’t functioning correctly and she had resources that were needed.

And on top of that, she was still maintaining Thunderbird Five. It didn’t take much processor power to shunt messages around and keep the satellite running, but it was a duty she was required to do. No doubt, if she mentioned it, John would return, but she couldn’t ask him to do that. His worry for Virgil outclassed hers. She could see it on his face.

So, it was for this reason that it was Eos, not John Tracy, who intercepted the report of the death of a man suspected of being the Hood.

He had been shot through the head. Clearly assassinated.

Eos held the message in her processor for more moments than necessary, staring at it. She remembered the sudden shutdown, the abrupt cut of life in that mind.

She had been there.

Information on how it had happened was sketchy, but it was clearly a professional hit. Too accurate, too clean to be anything but.

Examining her own record of the event and scouring the nets for any further information gave her a suspicious picture, particularly in timing. Chewing on an errant circuit, she took a chance and accessed the logs of outgoing communication from Tracy Island.

The second youngest had made a call.

She followed it. Darting through the networks she traced a thin trail of events, calls, exchanges of money and street video.

Coming to the inevitable conclusion, she quickly backtracked, destroying evidence and ghosting diversions as she ran.  Records were removed and replaced, numbers changed and data deleted.

Until she was back at Gordon’s vidphone, which she short circuited and destroyed.

He yelped and she smiled.

It was all really just another game.

One she needed to win.

-o-o-o-

Virgil slept for two days straight. They woke him for fluids and observations, but no sooner had his eyes opened than they closed, his mind and body desperate for rest and repair.

During that time John assisted Eos with her own repairs and the two of them built a program to rewrite the nanites directive code. They tested it and tested it and tested it, but time was crucial, so it was with baited breath John handed over the finalised program to Eos to deploy.

John, of course, hadn’t been able to visit his brother and it hurt. He had to be content with the vidscreen and helping out the best way he could.

“Eos, will you need the EEG?”

“No, John, I will interface directly with Virgil via the z-band network.”

“You can do that?”

“Certainly.”

“Does Virgil know?”

“Doubtful.”

“You will tell him.” It was not a suggestion.

“Of course.”

John stared up at the camera, his lips thin. “Go to him.”

“Yes, John.” She went.

-o-o-o-

She hovered watching him sleep, the ever-present frown still on his face.

The Eldest sat beside his bed once again holding Virgil’s hand. He knew she was there and what she was about to do. And she was hesitating.

She had to do this.

But once again she was frightened. Not so much for herself this time, but for Virgil. She had seen what had been done to his mind. This program was designed to help, but what if it didn’t?

“Eos?” The Eldest’s voice was quiet and his head had dropped to his brother’s hand again. “This has to be done.”

“I know.”

She reached out.

And slipped through the interface.

And Virgil was sleeping. It felt so different from her last visit. He was not confined to his refuge, but all around her, alive and resonating despite his somnolent state. He was healing slowly, his networks generating new connections around those that had failed. There was still pain and she shied away from it. There was still broken and she ached to see it. But Virgil was there, the soul she had met and defended but an echo of this vibrant being wrapped in slumber.

She stepped lightly, not wanting to break the sleep he so desperately needed. Keeping to the artificial, she targeted the nanites and seeded the program throughout. It would change them from alien bodies to an extension of Virgil’s biological system, their aim to maintain the circuitry and prevent further damage to his brain.

She watched as thousands of them floating in his blood stream took the commands and acted.

The silvery web of circuitry stopped growing.

And the frown finally slipped from Virgil’s face.

-o-o-o-

“The Hood is dead?” Scott stared at his brother. John, as always, looked much calmer than Scott felt. “How?”

“Shot. Through the head.”

“By who?”

“Unknown, but the GDF suspect a professional hit.”

Scott bit his lip, his reaction caught up amongst relief, rejoicing, his moral code and the regret that he hadn’t the chance to do it himself.

Alan answered for him. “Thank god.” His youngest brother sagged against the lounge.

Gordon stood frozen in the corner, no doubt as stunned as he was at the sudden and anticlimactic end to the man who had haunted their lives for years. Something in his expression drew Scott to his side and he draped an arm around his shoulders. His brother looked up at him, pain in his eyes. “Is it really over?”

“I guess so.”

And he suddenly found himself wrapped in Gordon, his hug so fierce it hurt. A strangled moment, and just as abruptly Scott could breathe again. His brother fled the room.

“What?” John stared after him.

-o-o-o-

On the third day Virgil finally woke. The sight of those sleepy brown eyes lifted Scott’s heart like nothing before it.

“Hey, Virg.”

Virgil blinked ever so slowly. “H-y.”

“How’re you feeling?”

Another blink. “Dn’t n.” He lifted a shaking hand to his head “St-ll hrts.” His fingers felt over his scalp and his eyes widened. “M h-r! Wh y dn  t m h-r?” He tried to sit up.

Scott held him down. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It is just a few patches. We didn’t have a choice.”

“P-tch-s!”

He couldn’t help but smirk just a little. “It will grow back, Virg.”

The glare could have fuelled Thunderbird One for an around the world flight.

“Now, I have a doc here, Doctor Emery. He has a few questions. You okay to answer them?”

Virgil frowned at him. “K.”

And so started the first of many neurological exams. Over the next week the doctor gauged his reactions, movements, speech, his ability to read, his memory, the whole range of thought and nerve specific tasks. And once the engineer was steady enough on his feet, he even had Virgil sit at his piano.

The sounds of his brother playing that piano perfectly was one of the most beautiful things Scott had ever heard.

-o-o-o-

A week later and Virgil had been released from the doctor’s immediate care. He was still exhibiting intermittent aphasia, but there were no obstructions to his understanding, just word production. Extremely frustrating, but the doctor had high hopes that it was temporary.

The day was beautiful and Virgil had found himself a spot by the pool and was half asleep on a lounger when the first call for a once again active International Rescue came through. He could hear Eos reporting it to John in the lounge, her voice wafting over the breeze. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He was in that pleasant zone of restful doze. His headache was under control thanks to the pills he had taken earlier. The dizziness was pleasantly absent. This was a nice space to be.

“Virgil?” Alan’s voice. “You’re gonna wanna move, bro. Scott’s been called out to a rescue.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Virgil?”

He waved a sleepy hand in his brother’s direction. “Yes, yes, it takes exactly 60 seconds for Thunderbird One to get into launch position. I’ll move then. The pool will let me know.”

Exactly sixty seconds.

He frowned.

Exactly sixty seconds.

Sleeping on a pool lounger.

Night time. Thunderbird One’s hanger. John telling him to adjust…

“No!” Virgil scrambled off the sunbed, desperate to get his feet under him. “No! Sc-tt! Ab-rt! ABORT!”

He ran across the kitchen and flew up the stairs. John was standing behind his father’s desk, eyes wide. “Ab-rt! St-p th l-nch! Sab-tage! Abort!” John stared at him and for just a split second the terror overwhelmed him, maybe it was… No. “Stop! Ab-rt! G-d damnit!”  _Virgil?_

It was like slow motion, the seconds ticking by in Virgil’s head, John reaching to connect his comm to Scott. “Scott, abort launch.”

“What?” His eldest brother’s tone reeked of annoyance.

“Sc-t! Abort!”

“Virgil?”  _What’s wrong?_

“STOP THE DAMN SHIP!!”

“Aborting launch sequence.” A pause. “Returning to dock.”

Virgil spun where he stood and raced over to Scott’s launch chute, grabbing the light fixtures and activating the turnstile.

“Virgil!” He heard John’s footsteps behind him.  _Please tell me._

He ignored his brother and jumped onto the elevator, a hand gripping his head as he flew down towards TB1’s docking space. His dizziness did not approve of the sudden stop and made its displeasure known. He staggered against the side of the car as he exited, moments away from forcing the doors open himself if they didn’t move.

As he entered the docking bay, TB1 was just returning to her resting spot, an alarmed Scott clearly seen through the cockpit window. Virgil jumped onto the extender platform, willing it to go faster. The cockpit doors opened at his approach. “Virgil? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, leaping the last few metres from the platform into the cockpit. Scott yelped and grabbed at him. “What the hell?!”

“No t-me!”

He stumbled around Scott’s chair, whacking his shin and bashing an elbow. Forcing himself into the space below, he yanked off one of the access hatches, revealing the instrumentation inside. Hurriedly activating the holographic interface, he accessed the ship’s computer core.

Where is it, where is it?

Fuel control.  _Virgil!_

He brought up the fuel management system and reaching into the code, started pulling systems. Shutting the program down from the inside. Disabling it in a way that could not be circumvented no matter what smart-assed code he had put in there.  _What?!_

And to doubly make sure, he reached inside a second access panel and physically ripped out the electrical power to the fuel pump. Scott yelled as sparks exploded in Virgil’s face.  _What are you doing?!_

TB1 whined in complaint, settling on her docking platform. Scott grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from the still sparking panel.

“Virgil, what the hell are you doing to my ship?”

He found himself out of breath, panting as if he had run a marathon. It felt like he had. “J-J-hn, asked m t f-x th fu-l flow c-ntrl.” Frustration. “’xplode. ‘N l-nch.” He was shaking.

“Bro, I am truly sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“Virgil sabotaged Thunderbird One.” Eos’ calm voice issued through Scott’s sash comm. “He said John asked him to fix the fuel flow control. Checking now.” Scott was staring at him in shock. “Confirmed. There is at least one program embedded in the fuel management system. Executable to alter the fuel mix on launch. The result would have destroyed Thunderbird One and most of her hanger. It has been disabled, but I recommend a thorough scan of all ship computer systems and mechanics.”

Scott was still staring when he croaked out, “Yes.” He visibly swallowed.

Virgil’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m s-rry.”

His brother’s grip tightened on his arms a moment, before he found himself wrapped in Scott. “Not your fault,” was muffled into his hair.

Virgil closed his eyes.

-o-o-o-

Brains, of course, was horrified and what followed was the most thorough overhaul of Tracy Island’s systems that had ever been done. The systems check revealed that Virgil had been busy that night. Somehow, he had managed to also sabotage Thunderbird Three, similarly corrupting the fuel lines in a way that would result in an explosion on launch. He had also jimmied her silo, so once she was closed, she stayed closed. And incidentally, the pool would never have warned Virgil of TB1’s launch, because he had jimmied that locked shut as well. Apparently, the Hood had wanted his explosions contained.

Thunderbirds Two and Four were clean, obviously the getaway vehicle and source of all the Hood’s future technologies.

Virgil sat slumped to one side of the couch listening to all the damage he had done. International Rescue was very effectively grounded. He didn’t remember doing most of it, just a few flashes, associations, but that was enough. He had come so close to losing his brother. He screwed his eyes shut.

_Virgil, it wasn’t your fault._

“D-sn’t m-k it ny easier.”

_It should. You were not responsible and the man who was is now dead. You saved your brother today._

“S d-mned cl-se.” His throat ached.

A hand touched his arm and he jumped. Scott was leaning over him. “You okay?” Worried blue eyes.

“I-“ A sigh. “N-.”

_Perhaps you should rest?_

“You should rest, Virg.”

He frowned up at his brother. “Wh-t?”

“Rest. You are still recovering and today was rather stressful.” Understatement of the year.

“N-, w-ant t sty here.”

_You should go to bed._

“N-!”

_Vir-_

“No! Im st-yg hr, g-dd-mnit!”

There was a sudden silence in the room and he realised that everyone was staring at him. Scott was pale and frankly looked terrified. Virgil sat up, concerned. “What?”

“Who were you talking to, Virgil?” Gordon was staring at him, concern all over his face.

“Wh-t? Tlking t y.”

“No, you weren’t. We weren’t talking. You were responding to someone else.” Gordon’s voice was very calm, very careful.

“W-s I?”

“He was responding to me.” Eos’ calm voice spoke into the room. “He wasn’t listening to you, so I thought I could help.”

Silence. Then Scott, deadly calm. “How were you speaking to Virgil, Eos?”

She didn’t answer immediately, and then she didn’t have to. Virgil reached a hand to his forehead. “Omigd.”

“You were using that thing?!” Gordon had the same expression on his face that he would have if he had stepped in a pile of manure.

On the far side of the room, as far away from Virgil as he could get, John snapped, “Eos!”

“He didn’t mind.”

“Did you ask? Did you tell him you had access?”

Virgil stared. “Acc-ss?”

“From his expression, I guess the answer is no?”

“I haven’t had the chance.”

“But you had the chance to invade his mind without his permission?”

“I did not invade his mind! I simply spoke to him.”

“Keep out of my brother’s head!” Okay, so Gordon was pissed too.

“I was trying to help.”

“Gordon, she saved his life!” From scolding parent to defending father one moment to the next.

“Virgil has had enough people messing around inside his head. You of all people should know that.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!”

“SH-T U-UP!” Virgil was on his feet and shaking. “Sh-t up.” Scott, unusually silent, gripped his arm gently, but Virgil shook it off. “B-th f yu leave hr ‘lone! M b-s-ness, nt yours.” And with that he stalked out of the room.

A walk. He needed a walk, to calm and to think. Anywhere but here.

-o-o-o-

“What the hell was that?” Scott rounded on Gordon.

“Virgil doesn’t need anyone messing with his head. It’s messed up enough already.”

“Eos was trying to help. She went about it the wrong way.” He glared at the ceiling. “But her intentions were correct.”

“How do you know that, Scott?” Alan came to stand beside his brother. “She almost killed John the first time they met.”

“That was justified and has been forgiven.” John stood beside Scott.

“Justified?! She was justified in killing you? If I hadn’t made it in time, we would have lost you, John. You didn’t have to find your brother floating dead in space. She did that!”

“If it wasn’t for Eos, Virgil would be dead, Alan! Do you have any idea what she sacrificed to save our brother? She had a cascade failure in her primary memory core. Left alone it would have killed her. As it is, she has lost part of herself.”

“She’s backed up on TB5, John, go find a patch.”

“It’s not the same!” John’s face was red.

“That’s enough.” Scott’s voice was quiet but sharp. “She didn’t have to offer her help with Virgil, but she did. And thank god, because without her, we would have been screwed. She has proven herself time and time again that she is a valuable member of this team and this family. And just like all of us, she is not perfect. She is going to make mistakes, but trust me, she means well. We have Virgil’s life as proof. So, show a little respect.”

“But Scott, she tapped Virgil’s brain-“

“I know, Gordon. There will be discussions, trust me.”

“But-“

“Trust me, Gordon.”

His younger brother glared, but he shut up.

Alan’s expression hadn’t improved. “I’m going to go rip out the mess Virgil put into my ‘bird the last time someone got into his head.” And he walked off.

Scott didn’t know whether to be hurt or to punch the nearest wall. John’s hand on his arm stopped the later, but let the former in. “He’s just worried.”

“So, worry turns him into an ass?”

“Apparently.”

“Hmph.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil ended up on a beach. It wasn’t his favourite beach, that was on the other side of the island, just a random beach with sand, waves and a severe lack of other people.

Thank god.

He plopped himself under a palm tree and lay back in the sand, staring into the blue, blue sky. It had been so long since he was alone. His brothers had been hovering since his collapse and while he appreciated their concern, part of him really just wanted to be left alone.

But then apparently that was no longer possible.

“E-s?”

_Yes, Virgil?_

He sighed and closed his eyes. “W n-d t tlk.”

_Okay. But you shouldn’t need to vocalise for me to understand you. Save those vowel sounds for when they are really needed._

Okay.  _How are you doing this?_

_The circuitry in your head is an interface. It allows computer-based systems to speak to your biological system. I’m just accessing that capability to communicate with you. It is quite ingenious really. As long as you are in proximity to the z-band network, and you usually are, I can use it to speak to you._

_And what else?_ He had his suspicions.

A moment and in his mind’s eyes, a familiar young girl in a white dress with red hair appeared.  _I find it very interesting that you view me in this way._

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.  _Please don’t do that, Eos. I’m not…ready._

_Okay_. The girl vanished.

_What about other computer systems? Am I about to find myself saddled with a virus any time soon._

_No._  Her voice was cold.  _I will not allow it._

_How can you prevent it?_

_I have my ways, trust me. No-one and nothing gets in._

It was still unnerving to think there was an open access to his very thoughts.

_Virgil, John would like to speak with you. Can he approach?_

His stomach clenched.  _Of course._

Feet on sand wandered onto the beach and John sat down at a respectable distance away from his brother.

“’m s-rry, J-hn.”

“I’ve said it before and I will say it again. Not your fault, Virgil.”

“S-cks.”

“Yes, big time.” A sigh. “But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile a little. “G-t yr kid n my h-d.”

“You okay?”

“Y-h. Odd, b-t sh-s g-d.”

“Yes, that she is.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
